All The Right Moves
by brilliantmemories
Summary: Desmond has lost people and opportunities in the past and now that the Templars are in the stronghold, he's not willing to lose anything anymore. He has a question for Shaun and he wants an answer. Desmond/Shaun, tragedy ensures.


**A/N:** So this was inspired by two songs. _Meet Me on the Equinox by Death Cab for Cutie_ and _The Best is Yet To Come from the Metal Gear Solid Soundtrack_. Both songs are amazing and completely different, but I love each one because they're so... sweet. Anyways, this was just to overcome a writer's block. I hope it worked because I seriously need to work on the other projects. So, sorry to keep you guys waiting about that! I really am trying to advance plots and try out different things but life's just getting so hectic... I'm getting prepared to a move, exams are in a month, my birthday is on the 26th of May and plenty of more things follow, yippie.

Enjoy!

_EDIT:_ Whoops, fixed the mistake at the end! I had two endings planned out and I took ending one, the ending with more action. Sorry 'bout that.

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**All The Right Moves**

Shaun looked around himself blindly, trying to collect all the thoughts that had just been scattered across the room.

"Shaun? What's the matter? Are they okay?"

The historian desperately wanted to reply with a solid, 'yes' – but then that would be lying. He merely shook his head and returned his eyes to the glowing screen where both bodies lay in a bloody mess, toppled over each other as a Templar inspected each one carefully. Desmond's vehemence built dangerously inside him, but then it was suddenly washed away by a tidal wave of despair. Eyes fixated on the screen, Desmond felt himself begin to shake, wanting to rip Shaun apart for his failure.

"You – you did this!"

"I didn't know the Templars would be there, Desmond!"

"It's your _entire_ fault, you bastard! You're no better than them!" Desmond shouted as he grabbed the front of the Assassin's shirt, bunching the fabric in his clammy hands, their noses almost touching. Shaun grabbed Desmond's wrist and squeezed, wanting to hurt the man no more than Desmond wanted to harm him. They could stare at each other all day, filled with rage, but in the end, neither would make a move towards the other.

"It's not my entire fault, you ignorant twat. If you would have gone, then maybe they'd both still be alive."

"So are you suggesting that you'd trade my life for theirs?"

"Yes. Yes I would, Desmond. Because at least they're useful, unlike you! You sit in a fucking chair all day, living the life through Ezio Auditore, a vey flamboyant man! You can die all you want and you'll just restart from the checkpoint. Rebecca and Lucy didn't have a checkpoint, Desmond! This isn't some _stupid _fucking game we're playing!"

"And you think I don't know that? I'm not the one who screwed up!" Desmond growled, watching as his knuckles turned pure white.

"Fighting here isn't going to bring them back-"

"But it's going to make me feel a whole lot better!" And for the first of their short time spent together, Desmond reeled back his fist and connected it with Shaun's jaw. The historian stumbled back, falling against his desk.

"Oh yeah? You stupid idiot! How do you feel now?" Shaun shouted, adjusting his glasses as he leaned unsteadily against the desk, trying to recover from the uncalled blow. "God damn it, Desmond. You're becoming more and more like Ezio each day," he mumbled, gently touching the spot Desmond had hit him.

"You killed them!"

"My God, Desmond! Are we starting this up again? I didn't know there were Templars down there! I thought it had been safe – they both wanted to make it clear for us."

"And why couldn't you have gone with them?" Desmond's lip curled upwards slightly, frustration kicking its way back into his system.

Shaun sighed heavily, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Someone needed to guide them and babysit you-"

"You've done a shit job at both of those, you bastard!" Grinding his teeth, Desmond clenched his jaw as his fist was itching for another hit.

"Are you going to come up with anymore original insults, Desmond? Because you're doing great so far."

"You act like they never mattered to you. Come on, I'm sure you spent a few years with Lucy and you spent _several_ with-"

"Stop _right_ there," Shaun jerked his head to the side, looking out the window as Desmond stared at him, trying to make the historian feel uneasy in his vulnerable position. "So obviously Templars are in this building and they'll be here any minute."

"Obviously. Thanks, Shaun," Desmond rolled his eyes, feeling his vexation drop down a few notches.

"And they've brought guns, the indecent pricks."

"Hey Shaun, I didn't know your IQ was so high. Maybe-" Before he could finish his sentence, Desmond suddenly felt something hard connect with the side of his face. He crashed backwards and immediately felt Shaun pin him down to the cold, hard wood floor. Desmond cringed as he felt the tips of Shaun's fingers dig into his wrists, his eyes piercing Desmond's thick skull.

"Look, I'm sorry, alright? If you want to hear me say it, there you go. Now shut up," Shaun growled, as he gently leaned in and kissed Desmond, feeling all his negative feelings towards the man ebb away, as if the wave had taken them away in the tide. It had been a month since the very first time he had touched Desmond's lips with his own, and he had not regretted it the slightest bit. The fact that he had Desmond to rely on didn't change his cynical personality – sometimes, it just made it worse – or make him believe in anything that was out of the usual for his character. He wasn't going to be some love struck idiot that would find 'eternal happiness' in the end because that just wasn't Shaun Hastings.

Desmond Miles, on the other hand, found their complicated and bizarre relationship somewhat soothing, in the oddest way. They could vent at each other, whether it be physical or verbal, but he never seemed to have his feelings hurt. They both knew they didn't mean it all the way, although Desmond could tell Shaun was insulting him slightly over the minimal intent. Desmond knew it wasn't exactly a healthy relationship but what with the situation they were in, it wasn't like he could have done much better. Lucy had been an option at one point, until she had said dating at a '_time like this'_, wasn't appropriate and they could have saved it for later. But Desmond couldn't wait for later, what with the compelling dick of a historian tugging at his heart stronger each day.

"Can we not?" Desmond frowned, pushing Shaun off him. For a moment, Shaun felt surprised but then suddenly remembered that two out of the three people Desmond trusted had been killed. Shaun dealt with the death of his friends or allies monthly; he knew that they wouldn't have made it out alive in the end. Though, he felt a bit cheated. That the end shouldn't have come so quick for either of them. Suddenly, he was filled to the brim with guilt, something he hadn't experienced very often.

"Sorry," he mumbled under his breath, pulling away from the assassin. They sat, as if suspended in time, letting their reality pull them out of their irritation with each other.

"Do you mean it?" Desmond asked, looking over hesitantly at Shaun, who felt the need to stare at his scuffed shoes.

"Yeah. You don't... cope with this kind of thing nearly enough to have the emotions buckled down, yeah?" Shaun sighed, sitting up.

"No... but that's a good thing, right?" Desmond looked back at the hallway, half expecting a Templar to hold them down at gun point.

"I suppose. Now come on, you twat. We've only got so long..." Shaun frowned, extending his hand as he stood up. In the first few days whenever he knocked Desmond down in training, he merely walked away. He could recall the first time he helped Desmond up, the shocked expression on his face. Without uncertainty, Desmond took his hand and pulled himself up. Just as Shaun was about to return to his helter-skelter desk, Desmond pulled him back and pressed their lips together once more. Sighing internally with relief, Shaun pulled him close, basking in his warmth for perhaps the final time. A squeak in the floor boards caused them both to break apart, hands at the ready for a fist fight. They turned to meet nothing but the eerily empty hallway that now raised hairs on the backs of their necks. Without a doubt, paranoia was making its way into their actions and every single motion was a faux threat, each one freezing as something uncalled for made its way into the open.

"Here," Shaun tossed Desmond a gun, his voice rising slightly. It had been years since either had last used a gun and they didn't exactly have time for training.

"What's this?" Desmond raised an eyebrow, examining it carefully and thoroughly in his trembling fingers.

"What does it look like?" Shaun scowled as he loaded his gun and practiced his stance.

"Well... A gun, no shit. But why?"

"Because if the Templars have them, well, the hidden blade, a close up combat weapon, won't exactly be that effective against guns, which y'know, are long distance weapons." Shaun rolled his eyes and tucked the gun away at his side and Desmond followed suit.

"Now come on," Shaun motioned. "We have to take them out if we want to get out of here safely. Surely there won't be many of them. We have to try and make it out of here. If not for us, then for Lucy and Rebecca because that's what they would have wanted."

"How do you know that's what they wanted?" Desmond asked skeptically, closing the distance between him and Shaun. He didn't want to be farther away from him then he needed to be.

"Because if I had died, I would have wanted you to get out safety," Shaun whispered and for a moment, Desmond wondered if he had heard the man correctly.

"Did you just-"

"Come on," Shaun ordered as they shut down at the laptops, and erased all the memory that remained on the hard drives. Shaun had it all on an external hard drive in which he had extracted all the data they needed, mere hours prior to their friends death. "Stay behind me."

"Wait!" Desmond shouted, a little more loudly than he should have. Shaun narrowed his eyes at him but nevertheless, Desmond turned back around and grabbed a box that he had stowed away in his bedside table. "Alright, it's all good." He caught up to Shaun, who had already started inching down the hallway. As they made their way down, Shaun thought of all the possible ways their mission could have ended. Lucy and Rebecca could have been in their places, already gone and away safety, for they had no relationship making things complex. Or perhaps Desmond and Lucy could have gone down together and both succeeded, allowing them to push their research farther. The outcomes were numerous, too many for Shaun to calculate in his head at that moment. Every step could have changed the outcome, or even the next one that followed. Their footsteps echoed on the hard metal and Shaun tried as hard as he could to lessen the noise that they were making. Although he couldn't hear anything, the historian kept his mouth shut and ears open as they finally came to the end and they had two choices. Either the bedrooms or the warehouse.

The right choice was obvious.

But from the right choice, Shaun could hear the low voices of men and Desmond could hear one above all others. There was no way he could forget the villainous voice of Warren Vidic. Their fate was just a mere few feet to their left and Shaun suddenly felt his heart hammering loudly in his chest, fearing that its thunderous pounding would give them away. The historian nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt Desmond's cool lips on his neck, a quick reassurance that he had someone covering his back.

"Idiot... scaring me like that," Shaun whispered, barely audible to Desmond's own ears.

"Look, Shaun, I have something to ask you," Desmond murmured, putting his gun away quickly.

"Now's not the time, Desmond. Save it for later."

"No, because the last time I was saving something for later, it got taken away from me. I am not losing this."

Shaun felt his breath catch in his throat, unable to comprehend the amount of emotion that he felt Desmond spilling out on him. It was overwhelming, too much at once. But his words betrayed him. "Fine. Ask away."

The next words Desmond uttered rendered Shaun completely defenceless.

"Will you marry me?"

It took Shaun several moments to compose a coherent reply.

"Are you kidding me?" And Desmond felt himself frown when Shaun began to laugh, almost losing himself to hysterics.

"No... Here, look," Shaun turned around to watch Desmond produce a small black box from his pocket and open it so slowly that it felt like hours had passed them by. Before his eyes were a small golden band, and a diamond the size of a chick pea. It was real, all right in front of him to take. The ring, the commitment and the next step of the relationship. And most of all, Desmond was handing his heart to him on a messy, silver platter.

"I... I don't know what to say. Seriously, Desmond. You just... What? This is completely illogical."

"No, it's not. You just have to say yes," Desmond begged, his eyes filling with desperation. Shaun could see the fear of rejection leaking through slowly, making it apparent that he hadn't picked his timing very well.

"...Yes." Shaun lowered his gaze and stowed his gun to his side. Slowly, he raised an eye to see Desmond's smiling face, only to watch him pluck the ring for its velvet container and gently slip the ring onto Shaun's skinny, pale finger.

"Thank you," Desmond whispered, ghosting his lips across Shaun's neck and jaw, slowly bringing himself to kiss the shaking historian. He felt as if his knees were going to buckle – how could have he have jumped so far in one day? From death to a renewal; a new life for the two of them. Never before had Shaun Hastings believed that he would find 'eternal love' and he wouldn't because it was Shaun Hastings. What he now had wasn't eternal, and Shaun felt it quite awkward to call it love, but he knew that's what it was. As corny as it was, he was in _love_.

If only that was the end of things.

Staring at his ring, Shaun snapped out of his land of pure bliss when he heard the shouts of the Templars. They were halfway to their checkpoint and it would only take them a minute or two to run across the warehouse. But there were the enemies that surrounded them that escalated the problem, making it a bit harder to escape. Quietly, Shaun ducked down and slowly began to make his way to the platforms where they would have to run down the stairs. More than ever, Shaun wanted to leave with him and Desmond alive. He was curious about the new life he now had on his finger. He couldn't afford to let it slip right through and shatter into a million pieces on the ground.

No one noticed them as they cautiously made their way into the open, stealthily and silently making their way down the first flight of stairs. It took them less than a minute, but they managed to move soundlessly, approaching the second set with rapid heartbeats. Each time they took a step, the stakes and chances of them getting discovered grew higher and higher. It was almost to the point of ridiculous when they finally made it to the bottom, both thanking the idiot guards in their heads for not using their peripheral vision.

Desmond's mind was racing as he crouched behind Shaun, waiting for his next movement. Shaun had said yes, against all odds. It wasn't like he knew what he was doing – he had only seen it on the television and how the man usually got down on one knee and proposed to the woman. Except... he had left out the knee part and Shaun wasn't a woman, so he figured it evened out. He just couldn't think straight, wrap his head around the fact that Shaun Hastings had said _yes_ to his marriage proposal.

"I want them both dead. Massacre them, if you must, but get it done. We can't have those two... bugs crawling around the place and causing problems for us. That would be most unacceptable, wouldn't it?" Desmond shivered when he heard Dr. Vidic's voice, trying to pull himself farther away from the memories of Abstergo. Before he could forget the way he would wake to find Vidic staring him in the face, everything suddenly shifted to black, with glowing figures surrounding him. The red was almost blinding as he looked around frantically, only one blue in sight. As desperately as he searched, no whites seemed to stand out. They were exposed in the middle of their own territory. A horse raced across the open space and Desmond know that couldn't be real, that or the men fighting with their steel blades around Templars that were going through crates, searching for something that might be useful to their boss, completely unaware of the clash around them.

"Desmond... Are you alright?" Shaun asked, his knuckles white from holding the gun too hard. Desmond nodded, barely hearing his voice. His legs felt heavy and he didn't know what to do, everything was changing so rapidly. Colours flashed and things changed back to normal, but it took him a moment to adjust. "Desmond?"

"Yeah... I'm fine. I-" Desmond walked backwards into a toolbox that the Templars had thrown aside, searching for something more useful. Suddenly, twenty pairs of sadistic, taunting eyes were on them and Shaun quickly whipped out his gun, waiting for one of them to shoot. None did, much to his surprise. Desmond stumbled aside, knocking over a wrench as he straightened himself up, cursing himself internally for the largest fuck up of his life.

"What do we have here?" Vidic's laughter rang out, causing Desmond to shuffle back closely to Shaun, only to press their backs together. From both ends, they were surrounded by swarms of enemies. Eyes flickering across the scene, Shaun watched as a tall, older man stepped out from behind a car. It was him. "Two of you left? Why, that's a shame. I was hoping for more of a... grand finale. Well, I guess you can't always have what you want."

Desmond sighed heavily and reeled around to Shaun's side and gently locked their fingers together, his other fingers tightly holding the handgun. He was so tempted to pull the trigger at the bastard of a man who stood only a few feet before him. He could hardly stand his disgusted expression and squeezed Shaun's hand softly. It would end everything Shaun and he were running from. It seemed too easy.

"Well, you'll both go down in _history_, Desmond Miles and Shaun Hastings, as the men who brought us everything we need to take over the world," he laughed and gave a subtle hand signal. Shaun tensed up as he heard the loading of at least ten guns. The historian could feel the ring digging into his hand, his grip on the gun tightly pointed at a larger man with a larger gun. "It's over, you lose."

"Damn you and your company to hell!" Desmond shouted, pulling back on the trigger, firing a round of bullets at the man he hated with a passion. To his ultimate dismay, not a single one hit. Already, the man had taken cover behind the car and his numerous beefy body guards.

"Take them both out. Now," Vidic snarled, jaw clenched and fists balled.

Suddenly a barrage of bullets flew at them, dangerously missing the two Assassins that jumped out of the way. Shaun had dived to the right while Desmond, the opposite. Without a second thought, Desmond ran to a pile of stacked crates, just barely moving out of the way of a bee line of bullets in his direction. Half of the men shot at Shaun, who had slid under the van they had parked in the warehouse and struggled to crawl to the other side.

"Wonderful! I was hoping neither of you would go down without a fight!" Vidic's voice called out, and Shaun felt an instant, cold fear. He couldn't see where Desmond was. Couldn't see if he was alright. Quickly, he struck down a Templar before he could knock him down first. His accuracy had been deadly as the man fell with a bullet between his now closed eyes. Without missing a beat, Shaun turned around and took down two more Templars, thanking his luck that his aim hadn't deteriorated over the past years. Shaun looked around him, searching for more guns pointed in his direction and found a few that wouldn't be able to reach him. It seemed that Vidic hired his goons by the handful, a penny for each one. Quickly, Shaun ran to the hood of the car and finally caught sight of Desmond, who was at the top of the crates shipped from Japan, barely dodging the load of bullets going his way.

"Desmond!" Shaun shouted, taking out a few more Templars. They were narrowing down their numbers from twenty to perhaps twelve. Then again, it wasn't like he could see everyone. And especially not the sniper at the top of the roof, aligning Desmond's head with the thin, black crosshair on his scope. Vidic smirked as he watched the man out of the corner of his eye and Shaun saw him, suddenly knowing that something had gone terribly wrong. He followed his gaze to see the sniper at the top, the long barrel pointed at Desmond.

To make matters worse, a bullet pierced Desmond's leg, making him immobile on the spot.

"Desmond!" Shaun shouted, flinging himself across the floor to the crates. Before he knew it, an instant pain punctured his side, drawing blood faster than he thought possible. Then another in his leg and then his shoulder. He stopped counting the bullets after he couldn't draw another breath, eyes fluttering closed.

"Shaun!" Desmond shouted, watching his fiancée crumple to the floor, blood pooling around the motionless body. "_Shaun!_" Pushing himself past his limits, through all the agony he was suffering, he jumped down each crate, unaware that Vidic had stilled all movement in the room. Feeling the tears spill onto his cheek, he dropped at Shaun's body, attempting to shake him awake. "Shaun, please... Come on.... You said we'd get out of here... Shaun!"

"I'm sorry for your loss, Desmond," Vidic apologised sarcastically, enjoying the pain he was inflicting on Subject Seventeen. It ran deeper than any laceration, any penetration to the skin. "Why don't we just put you out of your misery, hm? How does that sound?"

His only reply was Desmond's sob, clutching to the body that was still warm, still so much alive but dead.

"Good answer. What a beautiful ring on Mr. Hastings' finger. I bet it will fetch a fine price."

And with the final pull of a trigger, Desmond's sudden resentment and pain was wiped away, replaced by an absolute nothing.


End file.
